The idea of an art library came to me today as I was daydreaming about my work. While I love normal book libraries, what if I could have a space (garage, basement, spare bedroom, etc.) where art supplies would be organized and cataloged on shelves and in bookcases? (Quick! Call The Container Store and get Cheap Joe’s or Blick on standby!)

I would even designate one wall where I could throw some paint when I’m feeling creatively annoyed and frustrated. And no whispering allowed. My art library would have speakers, great lighting, cement floors, and a mini fridge. (Don’t get me started on my basement-turned-pottery-studio ideas.)

It would definitely be a working library and I don’t think I would ever want to leave.

I could also use it for my art party business and allow kids of all ages to explore the supplies and create something fun to take home with them.

Now that I have the dream, holding onto it is worthless unless I do something about it. No, I don’t have the space for something as grand as what I am picturing right now, but I can start small. I do have a designated space in my home where I can do my work and I am thankful for that.

The important thing is to be doing something that is moving you closer to seeing the completion of your goal. Sometimes small steps are necessary just to keep you from going backwards or standing still.

This is also a reminder for me to think big. I tend to limit my thinking based on my current circumstances. My current setup looks nothing like what I am picturing my art library to be (except for the plastic containers and semi-organized supplies that are constantly being thrown around in the drawers), but it’s a start! I refuse to think small or dismiss ideas like this one just because it doesn’t feel like it could ever actually happen.

What dreams do you have that feel like they are in complete contrast to your current situation? What steps are you taking towards that goal (even if they are small steps that feel insignificant)?

Do something today to show yourself that you haven’t forgotten about the dream. Don’t be willing to let it die in complacency, fear, or self-pity!

-Robin

For the past two months I have been taking time to really think about exactly what it is I want to do as an artist. Most of the time I feel like I am floundering around in the wake of everything that has already been done artistically.

There’s a direct correlation between art and music and I think musicians have to go through the same type of thing that I am feeling as an artist before they can find their unique sound. It’s easy to sound like everyone else, but the challenge is to not be so influenced by others that you end up drowning in a sea of familiarity and noise (this is different than finding inspiration from other musicians and artists. Inspiration can turn into a stronger influence, but it doesn’t have to).

Then there’s the temptation to create or sound the way you think others will accept or like. In other words, playing it safe in order to appeal to a certain audience. I can’t allow what others may think to dictate the way I express myself through my artwork. I understand that my art will not be for everyone and I am still trying to find my audience (or maybe I should say I am trying to get my audience to find me).

I am also looking for more glimpses of the clarity and freedom I have occasionally felt in my artwork throughout the years, and then trying to replicate those feelings into each new piece.

This brings me to yesterday when I realized that my paintings need to be more tactile. I have never felt more alive than when I was throwing pottery. I love everything about the process (from dust, to clay, to stoneware) and I think part of it has to do with the direct contact between my hands and the clay. I just don’t get the same sensory fulfillment from painting with a brush. There’s too much distance between me and my work.

Therefore, I am opening myself up to finding possibilities that I never knew existed (while thinking more tangibly). I am using things like string and tissue paper on canvas and blending paint with my fingers instead of brushes.

I also decided to look for some mediums that I loved using in the past. What jumped out at me yesterday was remembering how much I loved pastels and charcoal. Again, it goes back to touch. Blending pastels with my fingers feels natural and gives me more control over my work.

While I wish I would have done all of this artistic exploration and experimentation sooner, I don’t consider any of this to be a waste of time. In fact, it’s quite fun. And while I hope to find myself as an artist somewhere along the way, I never want the experimentation to end.

-Robin

“Around here, we don’t look backwards for very long. We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things because we’re curious…and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.” – Walt Disney

There are many emotions that come from painting. The process can be confusing and frustrating one minute, and full of elation and satisfaction the next. I feel like a lot of it is just for me as I work through each piece, but I’m sure the same emotions can be felt through the finished work when it’s out there for the world to see.

I wonder what it is that makes one person connect to something while someone else never looks twice. The nice thing is that I don’t have to please everyone. I do hope someone can connect to my work, but the reality is that not everyone will and I kind of like it that way.

So back to the process. My paintings usually have many layers. Sometimes the first and second layers are completely unrecognizable in the finished piece. Sometimes I think about putting words or phrases that will never be seen into an early layer. Sometimes there are only two layers. Sometimes there are 9 or 10. Or 20. I don’t plan ahead. I think the number of layers sometimes depends on where I hit my stride.

My painting experience is a lot like running. At the start of a run, I enjoy the fresh air and the feeling of the pavement beneath my feet. Then there comes a point where I hate everything about the stupid pavement and that fresh air I loved so much feels like knives in my chest. If I can just push through, I’ll reach a point where I feel like I could run forever. My gaze lifts toward the horizon again and everything is right in the world.

That’s the moment I wait for in each painting.

I wait for the fog to clear somewhere between layer 2 and 19. It’s during that time that I hate my brushes, the paint is drying too fast (or not fast enough), and I feel like starting something new. Sometimes I do. It helps for awhile until I get stuck on the new painting and then I have 2 paintings that I almost want to destroy.

This is where music is crucial. Sometimes I am so busy that I forget all about music. This is usually to my detriment as I have found that music can help to clear the fog faster. I crave the clarity, but you can’t rush it. I wish I could have it within the first or second brush stroke, but I don’t think it’s meant to happen so easily.

The next time you look at a piece of artwork (painting or otherwise), think about the process. Try to see the hidden layers. Look to find the clarity that came through perseverance. You probably won’t see the same thing that the artist does, but you might find a perspective all your own and maybe it will make you feel like you can run forever.

-Robin

Yesterday I finished a painting that was started a few years ago. Only one more to go before everything begins on blank canvas again.

Last night, I decided to continue ignoring the old painting and tore into some new canvases I just received. The smell of pine stretcher bars mixed with cotton and gesso was exactly what I needed for a fresh start. It feels like Christmas around here.

The new paints are Lefranc & Bourgeois Flash vinyl paint. I had never heard of them until a few weeks ago when someone mentioned them on a podcast my husband was listening to. They are described as “highly pigmented” with a “uniform, velvety matte, opaque finish”.

They had me at highly pigmented.

Color is what excites me and inspires me to paint. Since I don’t use oils, it can be difficult to get the saturation and depth of color that I love from acrylics.

I used Flashe to paint the background on a new canvas and was immediately impressed. This stuff is so rich I felt like I was painting with melted chocolate.

Today, I broke out my palette knives and decided to experiment on the neglected old painting. I used some heavy body acrylics and had so much fun that I can’t wait for it to dry so I can keep going.

I’m not sure how many paintings I want to work on simultaneously, but 2 feels like enough for now.

I seem to remember someone saying that you know you’re doing something you are passionate about when an hour of work feels like a minute. I am definitely losing track of time and loving every minute-hour.

Robin

My website is coming along and I am getting 8 paintings ready for sale.

I have an idea for a new painting and it’s taking everything in me to finish the ones I am currently working on before starting something new. My justification to drop everything else would be that I’m worried I’ll forget the new idea while I’m busy working on other paintings.

The good news is that I finished touching up 2 paintings today, and I almost completely finished the 5th one. I should have that one done tomorrow and then comes the step I’m kind of dreading: varnishing 5 paintings. I know it’s worth it, but it has to be my least favorite part of the process.

I could try to convince myself that the faster I get done with the varnish, the faster I can start the new painting, but I still have those other 3 that are partially complete.

I think my solution is a Miles Finch notebook. “I’ve got one idea that I’m especially psyched out of my mind about. You know, it’s one of those ideas where you’re just like uh.. Yes!”

I used to keep a sketch pad around for ideas when I was throwing pottery. I really need to get one going for my paintings.

And I need to remember how good I will feel when I have these 8 off of my plate and I can focus 100% on the idea to try something I’ve never done before.

My only promise is that it doesn’t have anything to do with asparagus children or a vulnerable peach.

-Robin

My website is still partially under construction, but I wanted to write about what I’ve been working on.

I love trees. Come to think of it, I’ve never heard anyone say, “I hate trees with all their shade.. and oxygen”. But I do think we get so used to seeing them that sometimes we can forget to notice them.

I love to listen to the breeze moving through the leaves in the summer. I love to see the colors in the fall and watch as the leaves blanket the ground below. I love that no matter how dead a tree looks in the winter, it can bloom fresh in the spring.

I first started this painting a few years ago, but I never felt like it was completely finished. I worked on it this week and I am so much happier with it now.

The painting is about perspective and how so much can be happening in the world below, but the very tops of the trees will always touch the sky.
The new photo will be up soon. It’s 18″x24″.

Now, I’m not the type of person who will tell you to go hug a tree, but I think you should at least try to notice one. There is no better time for tree watching than in the fall. Forget pumpkin flavored chap-stick and thousand calorie lattes. Give me the trees!

-Robin